Letters to Jason
by EDOB
Summary: After Jason's death, the Bat-family writes letters to their missed and beloved Jason.
1. Chapter 1: Forever Your Brother

Jason,

Your funeral was yesterday. It was…it was really nice, Jase. The League and the Team gave us flowers to put on your grave for them, since the funeral was for family only. All of them were different, so your coffin ended up looking better than Wayne Gardens. Alfred was jealous. So jealous he was crying…God, Jase, you're making this hard to write.

Bruce spoke at your funeral. It was one of the best speeches he ever gave. I got it on tape so I could put it next to you when you were buried, and I did, but in case you never hear it, it starts with "Jason Todd, one of the bravest men I know" and ended with "I'm going to miss my son. I love you, Jason." You would have cried. Barbara did. We all agreed that you are a man. Your one of the best men we know. We agreed that your part of our family. You're a Wayne. It's on the head stone and everything.

Your rooms exactly the same as it was before you were killed. Your beds a wreck, your desk is covered in old files from previous missions, and your books are organized randomly in a circle where you sat and read when you could. Every day, Alfred walks in, lays the breakfast you should have eaten that day on the table at the end of the bed, and walks out, leaving the door open. He seems sad when he does it, but he always manages a smile as he walks into the kitchen. He never says where he took that food, but we find him putting it in the garbage and bringing another tray up before lunch every day since you died.

You know, Jason, there are so many questions haunting my mind since you died. The number one being; Why you? Why couldn't I have died in your place? _Why couldn't I save you!?_ This is all my fault. Bruce says it's his, Babs says it's hers, but in all reality, it's all me. I couldn't save you. I couldn't do anything to help, and you know what? Your dead right now, and its all my fault.

I'm sorry I failed you Jason. I hope I see you again one day. Even if it's not doing what we do best.

Forever your brother,

Dick.

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	2. Chapter 2: Always Your Biggest Fan

Dear Jason,

Where are you? Babs told me you went away and you aren't coming back, Dickie told me that you were on a mission and disappeared, and Bruce told me that your gone. That your just…gone. I asked where you went to, but he got that sad look in his eyes, and I just stopped trying. Then they all came into my room before bed, sat with me, and told me that you aren't coming back. That your dead. Why are you dead?

This isn't funny anymore, Jason. I want you to stop. It's enough now. Game over. Stop hiding and get out here. Because I need you. We all need you. Please don't make me wait any longer. I need my big brother, and I think you need me too. I keep you level when your tipping towards angry. I kept your head in the game. Don't end that game, Jason, it was so much fun, all the pranks, all the fighting, all the forgiving, and repeating it all over again. Let's play again, big brother, because without you here, it's boring. The game with Dickie is no fun, Babs never has the time, and Bruce doesn't know how to play.

I don't think I can live life like I used to without you telling me how to do it. I lost my confidence, because your gone, Jason. Bruce is right. Your just gone.

Writing you is just going to mess with me, but I'll try to write you again some day. Not soon though, I hope you understand. I just can't right now. So soon after you leave. But I'll always be here.

Forever your biggest fan,

Love Timmy.


	3. Chapter 3: Your Silent Savior

Dear Jason,

Why would you do this to us? I mean, I know it wasn't your fault you were killed. Murdered. Taken from us, but why? Why would you leave Dick and Tim brotherless? Why would you leave Bruce with two sons? Why would you leave me?

I loved you like you were my own blood, Jason. I took care of you. I drug you home when everything was too much to handle, when you were beaten into unconsiousness. When you were bruised and didn't want your brothers and dad to see you that way, you called me. You asked me to take care of you because you didn't want them to worry. You wanted me to make sure that they never found out. I stitched you up when you were hurt. I made sure the bleeding stopped. I made sure that when you went home, you felt no immediate physical pain. And you leave us-_me _-to watch you get put into the ground.

I went into protective mode at your funeral. I panicked. I thought that maybe, you were alive and that if I tried, I could get you out. I could bring you back home, stitch you back up, and you'd be as good as new. But Bruce and Dick held me back when I went for the coffin. It was a beautiful coffin, Jason. It was something you'd be proud to be burried in. It had your initals engraved on the top. JT-W. Jason Todd-Wayne. The press ate up the story of you dying, blaming it on Bruce, and that took a toll on the Caped Crusader. He went ballistic, too. He destroyed the gym room and made the flower bed a wreck.

I know there aren't enough words to say, Jason, but I loved you so much. I felt responsible when you died. The death of a boy that made me feel like a mother and a sister took it out of me. Dick doesn't talk about it anymore. Tim sits in your room, holding a picture of you two in the cave, smiling like nothing was wrong. Like the world didn't sometimes depend on you. Like the world didn't need heroes. Like everything was okay. Bruce told everyone that if anything was removed from the room, if the room was out of place, we were in trouble. He goes to your room every night and smiles at the picture of the Bat-Family on your wall, in civvies. You were his son, Jason. You always will be.

I have to go, Jase, but I'll write again. I'll always write. I'll always have a place for you in my heart.

From your silent savior,

Babs

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	4. Chapter 4: Your Caped Guardian

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Jason,

I'm not good at talking to people, but of course you know that. Everytime we have a conversation over five minutes, it's a breifing on a mission. Well, everytime we _had_ a conversation. I'm sorry that we never talked like we should have. I'm sorry that I let you get killed. I'm sorry I kept the truth from you, and it cost you your life. There is so much I'm sorry for, Jason, and I can't actually say so. I'm sorry I drug you into the hero game. It's not a game at all, really. It's a gun fight, and I sent you into the middle of it with a knife.

I'm going to tell you a story about a boy. He was nine when he lost his parents, and was left in the care of his butler, in a large house that the two of them were forced to live in by themselves. The boy grew up emotionless. He had lost most of his life in one night before his eyes, and then he went off into the world to learn to fight, and to learn the hard truth; life isn't a game that you can play everyday. Life is hard. He trained himself physically and mentally to become a creature of the night, a creature which he feared as a child. A bat.

I became an emotionless monster, Jason, and I didn't show any real pride in you, or Dick, or Tim, but I feel proud of you all. I wished I had the chance to put my hand on your shoulder, look you in the eyes, and tell you that you became a very honorable man. But I lost that chance when I kept the identity of your mother from you. Your death is on my hands, Jason, and I wish I could have prevented it. I wish that I could have taken the beating for you. I wish I died instead. You could have stayed with Dick, and Tim, and Alfred, and Babs and you would be happy at the manor. Dick would get you guys to settle down, eventually, and you'd start a family, have a few kids, and live there with your brothers and your niece and nephews. Eventually, you'd be a grandfather and die a happy, normal death because that's what you deserve. You deserve a life.

There aren't enough letters in the alphabet, enough words in the English language, to tell you how proud I am of you. And how sorry I am that I couldn't save you. I love you, Jason. I had it put on your headstone. Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend. Honored hero. I'm sad nobody can know you're a hero. I'm happy I got the chance to train you, Jason, and I'm happy to call you my son.

Your Caped Guardian

Bruce


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